A Book of Broken Scars
by mei kusari
Summary: An old memory can last forever.  An old scar can last for more than a decade.  Though, the result is dark and often silent, like shadow.  Every memory finds it's way to the surface and attacks. NiChu.
1. Chapter 1: remember the floorboards

**[A/N: Hey ^^ This is my first fanfiction! It's probably horrible, but.. I guess that's why I'm posting it - for criticism (please don't be mean ;u;) . I've rated this T for language and violence as well as yaoi. Further chapters may end up being rated M, so I'll post a warning before the chapter if it is. Also, some of the stuff in here is stretched out and beyond realistic-ness (that's not a word), but if you don't like that, then don't say anything about it please. Real names will be used in certain parts.**

**The Pairings: JapanxChina, Spamano, FrUk, ItalyxGermany, PolandxCanada, and hints of RussiaxAmerica.**

**Excuse the first chapter, it's pretty short (and childish!). I've been working hard on my grammar skills, too. So enjoy ~ !**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.]**

_a book of broken scars_

Chapter 1 - remember the floorboards

A slick, silver katana is held in a slim man's trembling hand. Rain drips on his face from the sky (the roof was broken) and weapon, as well as the terrified man that the sword is being pointed at. The man pointing the sword looks reluctant to be in the situation, but he also seems quite pleased to be pointing a weapon at the man who raised him. Even though he owed a lot of things to the man being pursued, that was not on his mind.

"Yao," the slim man said to the older Asian man on the ground, "I do not mean to do this." His eyes were shining brown and a tear slipped down it. Luckily, the rain hid it.

"K-Kiku.." the man on the ground, Yao, whispered, "Please let me go. You are scaring me." The blade pointed at his neck seemed to be getting closer. Soon he feared he would be dead.

"But _why_?" Kiku asked.

"You are not being your normal self, aru. I raised you, too! Please, Kiku!" Yao said, a chill running down his spine. What if Kiku didn't allow him up?

Kiku stared at him, a blank facial expression marked upon his face. "Fine. Stand." He lowered his katana, knuckles white as he did so.

"Xie xie, Kiku." Yao stood. He wiped the mud from his pants and lightly bowed, though he had no idea why he would do this. "Japa - Kiku, are you alright?"

Kiku did not answer. He stared emptily at him. Yao shivered once again and turned around, the moon of midnight lighting the way forward.

Something was still not right. Yao sighed. "Kiku..?"

Kiku screamed and pulled out his katana. He madly ran at Yao without warning. Yao shrieked and put his hands on his head as an effort to somewhat protect himself. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion.

Kiku stabbed his katana into Yao's back and dragged it across and down, creating a vertical and slightly diagonal long, disfigured deep cut. Yao's eyes widened and he fell to his knees and whimpered. He coughed and sputtered, then threw up and slumped onto his side, shivering, whilst Kiku still cried, whilst the rain still shielded his tears. Yao couldn't cry out in pain, though. He just couldn't.

"K-Kiku..?" The bleeding man felt the world around his go whiter and more blurred. Kiku nodded and left him to die in the dirty, grassy hill, midst vomit and blood. He did feel bad, and he wanted to help him. But this was for his country! Today Kiku had to stay strong.

As he walked away, Yao kept shivering, tried to hold himself in the world of consciousness. He was immortal. _'I can't die,' _he thought quickly. That's what he told himself over and over again until finally an old friend of his named _Arthur _had come by.

"Please, Arthur," he muttered, "Don't say a word of any of this... to anybody. Not even... not even Francis." Yao swallowed hard and spit. Arthur nodded and picked up the man, and took him back to Francis's house.

"Francis, help right now. I found Yao like this in his house!" Arthur said. It was the last thing Yao remembered him saying before he was swallowed in the dark world.

_[Often I see the world through an old man's eyes and a young boy's heart.]_

_**- Months Later -**_

"So, Japan..." a stern, hard voice said, "you're paying, correct?"

Japan, with his dark (too dark, some might say) eyes and black hair, looked up at the man. Keeping his normal serious-yet-soft face, he says, "Hai. Do not worry about it."

The stern man, by the name of _Germany _or _Ludwig _to his closer friends, nods and closes his eyes. His grip on his beer glass tightens as his friend Italy pokes him on the shoulder over and over again, while laughing.

Japan had finally pulled out enough money, which he placed on the table near the check. Inside, he was smiling. He enjoyed spending time with Germany and Italy, even if they were with each other most of the time anyway.

"Germany, Italy, J-Japan!" a girlish voice called from somewhere. The three at the table looked around, not able to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, though it was a familiar voice.

Out of the blue, a man with dark brown hair in a ponytail and beautiful, green, Chinese robe appeared in front of their table. His eyes were golden and sparkling, which made most attention center around his face.

"Nihao everybody! Funny how we all ended up here, aru," he said happily, though there was the smallest bit of a quiver.

"Ah, China. I suppose so," Germany says. "What brings you here anyway?"

"I was just hungry, I suppose, aru. Why are you-"

"G-Germany," Japan interrupts, "I think we really should get going.

Germany and Italy stare at the slim man. They had never seen him want to leave, nor had he ever interrupted someone mid-sentence.

China quickly filled in the silence. "Right, I'm sorry to have held you up, aru. Well, goodnight, Germany and Italy! Y-you too, Japan, aru." With that, the Asian man ran off.

Japan did not sleep that night.

_**[A/N: There we go, first chapter FINALLY FINISHED. Sorry if the chapters are posted late, by the way, I switch between my mom and dad's house every day, so.. it's tricky to write. Thanks for reading the first chapter ~ ! Oh, and if you need translations: Xie xie means thank you, hai means yes, and Nihao means hello.]**_


	2. Chapter 2: wars of words

**[A/N: In case you didn't understand that last chapter, Kiku and Yao started out inside of Yao's house and eventually ended up outside, from running and stuff. Also, I'm sorry that this is a really fast-paced story, I'm kind of a scatterbrain. Ok, anyway, onto chapter ni/dos/er/two!]**

_a book of broken scars_

Chapter 2- wars of words

That very night, as it rained harder than it had for a few years, Germany and Italy were both inside their own homes. Germany was brushing his teeth and Italy was sitting at the kitchen table, humming a song to himself. All was quiet throughout both countries, though there were many things to talk about in general, besides politics and sports. Germany was praying that Italy would call him, but after to an hour of complete silence besides one flush of the toilet, he gave up and decided to call.

"Hello, ve~?" Italy answered, his tone of voice obviously happy to get a call.

"Erm, hello Italy. I was wondering... do you know anything about why Japan acted so strange today at dinner?"

"I was-a gonna ask you that, too! Ve~!" Italy replied cheerfully.

"Mmm, yes, figures. Do you have any ideas of who might know?"

There was a long, anxious pause. "Britain has always been close to him, ve~"

Germany sighed when Italy finally said something. Nowadays, when there were long silences between them both, he'd have the need to punch something. In fact, he _has _punched something, and it was himself.

"Germany, I think I'm-a gonna go to sleep now, ve~ See you tomorrow!"

There was a pause, and the click of the phone hanging up, and then there was nothing.

The German exhaled, feeling very nosy. He knew better than to get in two nation's business, but he couldn't help it. There seemed to be something different about this. His whole life, he had known Japan as a quiet and respectful man. He had never seen him interrupt another nation mid-sentence, especially if they had barely spoken to each other. Perhaps there was history between the two. if there was, it must be bad - nobody ever put the two nation's names together in the same line.

Groaning, Germany began to dial Britain's number. They didn't speak to each other very often, and when they did, it never ended well.

"Bloody hell, what do you want at this time of night?" a grumpy voice answered.

"Yes, well... I was just wondering if I could come over tomorrow and speak to you about something."

There was a moan, as if the very mentioning of talking to him further would kill him."Fine. Now good night."

xx x xx

"Wake up! I wanna come with you to Britain's house!"

Germany slowly opened up his eyes to find Italy hunched over him, smiling as usual. "W-what are you doing?" he shouted.

"I'm-a waiting for you, hurry and get-a dressed pretty please!" Italy climbed off the bed and wandered away, most likely into the kitchen.

As he put on his normal uniform blue, Germany wondered how all of this would go down. Would it end in yelling, or perhaps peace, for once? What had he gotten himself into? Reminding himself that if Japan was hurt or ill, he would be a good guy for finding out. With that thought in mind, he left his room and headed into his kitchen, which was decorated with old, old (longer than he could remember) photos and numerous gifts he'd received from his friends. Every day when he'd come home, the gifts would be looking right at him. It was comforting.

"Come on Germany, ve~!"

Italy took his hand and flung open the door, laughing and panting. Germany ran a bit too fast for him, but managed to keep his speed just right for his companion.

Eventually, their pace slowed down to a speed-walk, so it was easier for Germany to gather his thoughts and Italy to not breathe so heavily. The scenery was nothing but grassy hills and flowers.

Finally, finally, they reached Britain's home. It was quiet (surprisingly) where he lived, with few pollution signs. Germany felt awkward to knock on the door and break the silence, but there was no doorbell.

The door flew open. "It's about time you're here," Britain said gruffly. "Come in and into the dining room."

Italy and Germany obeyed, not saying a single word, not even when Britain set out the scones that they oh so hated. His house seemed so empty, with only one photo of a young boy. There was a rocking chair and a fireplace, too, but not many other additions.

"What do bloody want?" Britain's voice scared Germany at how sudden it was (like a bat screeching in the mid of night).

"Right... well... the other day..."

As he told what had happened at dinner, he was praying that he'd never have to say it ever again. Italy occasionally joined in, but only to say useless things and to agree.

"Why did you have to ask this, out of all the goddamn questions in the world?" Britain said quietly, taking a sip of his tea.

"We need an answer," Germany said sternly. His tone was shockingly even.

"Fine, then. If you tell another soul, I'll murder you, though," Britain muttered.

"We won't."

Britain sighed. "All right then." There was a long pause. "A very long time ago, I was strolling through the rain. Mind you, I'm used to it and it wasn't very cold. I just so happened to be near China's home, though I was not prepared for what I saw. On his front yard, I saw China laying there on the floor, completely soaked in blood and as pale as snow.

"When I had gone over to him, he whispered in my ear to not tell anyone that I had seen him in that state. Down his back, I noticed that there was a deep, horrific gash. He had tears running down his cheeks and he said to me, 'Kiku did this to me.' I couldn't believe it. Oh, and I feel awful telling you this."

Germany and Italy simultaneously exchanged sad glances. China was always so fun loving and cheerful. Britain's story seemed beyond belief.

"Thank you, that's all I needed to hear."

xx x xx

"So dudes, guess what?" America said excitedly to Russia and Canada. He smiled and stuck a french fry in his mouth.

"Hm? What is it?" Russia asked while Canada simply raised his eyebrows.

"I found out something really awesome," America blabbered, "Well, it's awesome that I found out, but not really for who it's about."

"What did you find out?" Canada asked in his soft voice.

America ate a few more fries and began drinking his soda. Normally, he'd be eating faster, but today he felt tired from staying up late the other night. After losing his train of thought, he said, "Uh, what were we talking about?"

"You were saying that you found something 'awesome' out," Canada murmured, and America's head shot up, as if he suddenly remembered.

Deep down, Russia was very worried about him. Lately he had been very forgetful and eating less (which is saying something), as well as sleeping later. He remembered the night when America had ran up to him and started crying in his shoulder.

"Alfred, tell us," Russia said quickly.

America laughed (rather obnoxiously) and said, "So I overheard Germany and Italy talking about some shit relating to China."

Canada and Russia leaned in.

"China has some big-ass scar on his back because Japan swung his sword thing at him!"

Canada gasped and Russia had on a poker face. In truth, Russia had seen him changing at a beach when the Allies had all gone out, but he had never said anything about it.

Canada sat back in his seat and America threw away his trash. Approximately five minutes afterward, Canada left to go home and Russia fell asleep in a recliner. America went to bed, though he'd much rather watch television.

China received three phone calls that night, all about one thing he wanted hidden.

**[A/N: Bleh, another short chapter. AND it lacked detail and was too fast-paced. I'M SORRY ;u; I wrote it around 3:00 AM, and to stay awake I had one Sprite. Another thing: Now it's going to take me (hopefully not) even longer to update, because I'm having vision troubles with my left eye. I'm sorry again. Next chapter WILL be longer, better, and have Japan in it.]**


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